


The Night He Came Home

by IraGeneve



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: unamed character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IraGeneve/pseuds/IraGeneve
Summary: It's the night Michael comes home, and there's more to his appetite than the thirst to kill





	The Night He Came Home

**Author's Note:**

> the request was how would Michael cook for himself, so I wrote this tiny drabble xd

The inviting smell of the roasted chicken was traveling through the entire house. The herbs and the potatoes straight out of the oven were complimenting the brown chicken, the dish begging to be tasted.

Soon enough her husband will be home, and soon enough they’ll feast on this lovely dinner. She was proud of herself. Putting the chicken back on the trail, she put it into the oven to keep it warm and juicy for when the time will come.

Little did she know the smell and the open door also invited an unexpected guest…

When a brush of a hand softly touched her bare nape she giggled, surprised and pleased at the thought her lovely man was already home. When she turned around, her smile twisted in a choked scream as the hand wrapped itself around her throat and the man, tall, broad and strong stared at her with void and empty eyes instead of her husband’s love-filled ones.

Wiggling was pointless, and the last thing she saw was the knife still wet from the wine flavored sauce she carefully prepared, going straight between her eyes. There was a moment of tension, of spasms, of tears and blood in the field of view. Then, nothing. Silence. The last breath left her lungs, her limbs resting on either side of her frail body in a ghostly manner. Another nameless victim from the night he came home.

His shoulders relaxed while staring at the blood dripping from the wound for few more moments. He turned around to leave when, passing by the oven, his stomach growled stopping him from his tracks. He looked distressed at the normal reaction his body had.

But the chicken was there, still inside the oven, ripped and brown with golden hues, the smell intoxicating underneath his mask. It was stronger than the scent of blood and death lingering in the air. Strong, and tempting.

He looked towards the body one more time, the blade in her forehead was now completely soaked in red. He decided a long and sharp, clean blade from the cabinet will do the job better. The oven door opened and if he wasn’t the Shape of Haddonfield, if it wasn’t in the dawn of the night inside of a long dead victim’s house, he would feast from it right then and there. His dirty fingers touched the hot meat, the chicken’s bones cracking slightly when he stabbed it making sure it won’t fall off the knife. Michael Audrey Myers hovered above the open oven door for few minutes, holding the knife with the chicken on it and waiting for the juices to drip from the meal onto the trail, swallowing hard in expectation while turning it on a side and another. When the last drop of sauce was gone, he raised on his full height and left for the night, leaving behind 9 dead bodies and an empty oven.

The night fed his appetite in more than one way, the smell of roasted chicken warming the Myers house for the first time in decades.


End file.
